Not Like The Rest of Us
by StripedFuzzySocks
Summary: Pre-Bionic Showdown tag. The time is coming soon, very soon, but Marcus isn't as happy as he thinks he should be. If only it weren't for the way his dad looked at those three... what would it take for him to look at Marcus like that? Unknown to all, Marcus has a hidden agenda of his own for the Showdown. Douglas would be mad at first, but then he'd understand... (one-shot)


**A/N: Hey, guys. I probably won't be on Fan Fiction much after this post due to finals and every other crazy thing they're having me do for school these days. XD Well, anyways, this idea came to me totally randomly and I had one of those moments where I sat down and did a lot "binge writing" as I like to call it... and this happened. I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, but let's see what you guys think. (; Enjoy.**

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**Not Like The Rest of Us**

"Zoom in." Douglas ordered in monotone, leaning forward in his seat until his face stopped mere inches in front of the digital monitor.

Marcus wordlessly rewound the footage and zoomed in close on his father's object of interest without even needing to ask now what it was. It was always, always the same. Again they watched in silence Bree's eyes flicker to the ground in undisguised guilt, clearly taking her so called "father's" words to heart as she nodded solemnly from time to time while he talked the same garbage speech… _again_. Something about being a part of a team, how one mistake affects them all – it was worthless propaganda. If the kids had been raised by their true creator, Marcus' true blood father, those super freaks would have recognized the painfully obvious brainwashing instead of falling victim to the delusion of family.

Marcus' bored gaze drifted to those of her brothers, who were no better off themselves despite not being in trouble along with her. Like the other Davenport, they looked upon their sister accusingly as if she had assassinated the president, robbed a bank, or broke the fourth wall. And all because she didn't take their latest little "save the sea turtles" expedition seriously. The whole thing was pretty freaking hilarious, in Marcus' humble opinion. So, Big Bad Donald decided that since he has the strongest, fastest, most psychologically sophisticated human beings on the planet, a new superior race at his disposal, he figures that the best use of all their time is to make sure people don't litter the ocean. Thus, the three walking idiots go out and do his bidding, well, expect for Bree. Apparently, she'd rather date a hippie than be one.

So, she catches a horrible disease for not listening (which would have been _so _entertaining to watch play out in full had Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber been too late), and was failed to be properly quarantined. Really, how hard was it to lock a capsule? Douglas would lock Marcus in his for hours at a time if it suited him. It was made entirely of laser beams to block his chip signals, so when it came to escape he was no better than… well, a normal pathetic kid. Like Leo. Marcus shoved the nuisance to the back of his mind – the powerless runt didn't deserve a front seat to his thoughts – and watched Douglas replay that single minute yet again, eyes never leaving those of his original creations.

Marcus watched his father examine the screen intently, touching the glass as if he could touch the images themselves. He watched his gaze focus and rest hungrily on the solemn bionic girl, then slowly shift to take in his oldest son's loyal, unquestioning features, and lastly his attention lingered on Chase with an expression worlds away to a place Marcus would never be able to reach. His gut clenched. _What will it take for him to look at me like that?_ Marcus wondered in desperation. He could snap that Adam's neck and not even blink. He could take out Bree so fast she wouldn't know what hit her. He put Chase to shame on the intelligence scale and could already outperform him in every way – a fight with him would be merely child's play. But somehow that didn't matter. Not to Douglas. Douglas, his _father_.

Marcus was everything they were and more. Marcus was Douglas' flesh and blood, his only real son that grew looking up to him, stuck with him to the end while the others went pattering after the man who stabbed him in the back. He knew his father had clients with certain demands, and while that was as much as he was allowed to know, Marcus still could not for the life of him understand why they needed those patchwork failures. They were a lost cause. Each of them had one third of Marcus' abilities and glitched constantly – not to mention they were dumber than a bag of rocks, though he supposed that problem would fix itself once they were under the influence of the Triton App. Still, it was more trouble than it was worth. Marcus could do it. He _knew _he could.

Even if it meant he would never sleep again or see the sunlight outside the lab, Marcus would do it all without a second thought because that was the kind of son _he _was. He even proposed this once to his father. He had waited weeks for the perfect day to break the news, and it had finally come. Marcus had not only hacked into the Davenport's home security system so he could study them any time he liked, but he had also managed to sneak into the lab and put up an additional spy camera of his own so his father could view a part of the lab not even the colorfully named "Eddy" could see – and all without being ordered. It worked beautifully. Douglas was in the best of moods, the new episode of _Funeral Mishaps_ had just aired, and his stomach was filled with (more than) half of an apple pie that Marcus whipped up purposefully with light speed and heat vision. It was time.

"Hey, remember that…" Marcus recalled starting off with a joke from the episode, to which he was rewarded with loud, amused laughter that kicked off a few more quotes exchanged until finally he couldn't wait any longer.

"So, you know when you mentioned those clients that that needed jobs done that only bionics could do and that's why we need Donald's kids but I was just sitting around thinking and thought hey, I'm bionic and I can do jobs and bonus I don't need to be kidnapped and forced against my will so maybe I could just do the jobs really quick, then you get paid and we spare ourselves this whole super long and tedious process and just skip to the cash, great idea, right? Great? Great. Wonderful, well, it's been a long day and I don't know about you, but I need some sleep! See you tomorrow!" Marcus managed to pack the monologue into twenty seconds and was just about to escape the scene before he felt a firm hand latch onto his arm.

"Marcus, what's this all about?" Douglas asked, quickly slipping into a serious tone as naturally as Marcus could switch from fake friend mode to his true self. It must be a family trait. He remembered taking a deep breath before starting.

"I just said that maybe instead of going through all this trouble to get the other bionics, I could do your client's jobs." Marcus proposed at a normal speed. Silence hung in the air like a thick, blinding fog and Marcus, even today, could remember the feeling of his heart pounding, truly pounding, like it so rarely does.

"Are you afraid you won't be able to handle capturing them?" Douglas asked, his voice low and quiet with a darker undertone Marcus knew too well.

"No! I can take them easy!" He protested. "I'm just saying if I'm more powerful than all three of them put together, shouldn't _I _be on the dangerous missions?"

"Marcus, that is not up to you. We need them because _I _say we need them and _I _am the one in charge in here!" Douglas stood from his spot at the couch as his voice raised.

Marcus knew there had been more after that, but the rest of that night was all a hazy blur in his memory for some reason – nothing but scrambled flashes of hot, searing pain that he couldn't piece together. It was irrelevant now, anyways. The point was that he could be Lord High God lying dead at his father's feet to protect him, and it wouldn't mean a thing if he didn't have the others. Marcus did everything right, and still his own father had no time for him anymore, no interest in him. Not as long as _they_ were in the picture. _And it's only going to get worse. _Marcus realized with a start. One day soon, the three would be here, mind controlled into doing whatever Douglas wanted with factory precision. It might not even matter that they were weaker than him or glitched on occasion – they would have no will, no thought, so his father would give them his… all of a sudden Marcus would be obsolete for having free will.

Regardless of what extreme lengths he procured for his father now, this would happen and Marcus was powerless to stop it. Douglas would never look at his son like he looked at them… what would it take? Not even securing his victory in a long awaited war had been enough, and his father's revenge on Donald Marcus knew was at the top of his bucket list. It was time. Past time. Time to take those patchwork freaks down. When they were completely gone, just footnotes in a science text, then Douglas would have to realize how important Marcus was. He watched Bree's eyes widen in fear as she toppled to the ground, capturing the attention of her family members just about to leave.

"Oh, I forgot. It might take a while for the antidote to reach the rest of her body. So, everyone grab a limb." Donald's voice transmitted to the monitor.

Oh, yes. Marcus was really beginning to love this idea. His father would finally get back at the man who ruined his life, Donald would deserve every second, Adam, Bree, and Chase would be spared from a pitiful life of being the floor that Douglas walked all over, and Marcus would be number one. The only one. He'd be right up there on top of his father's list of importance, where he deserved to be. He supposed Leo could die too, just because the little nut job was really starting to tick him off. On screen, the other Davenports lifted Bree into the air as a team effort and started to leave the lab with her in tow. It was a Hallmark moment. Grinding his teeth behind an expressionless face, Marcus wanted to super speed to the lab right then to choke the life out of him when Adam grabbed _his _limb and then ceased to carry his sister on his own despite having super strength. What was she – ten pounds? Even _Chase _could sling her over a shoulder and make a break for it. He didn't bother hiding his scowl this time.

And there was his father, watching the scene as if sizing up a Thanksgiving dinner. As if they were his kids instead of Marcus. As if he was proud of them and couldn't wait to get them back. But he wasn't going to get them back. Not ever. Marcus would make sure of that. The story was simple: they almost escaped, but he caught them just in time. He didn't mean to kill them – it was an accident, a slip of the hand, and before he knew it, the three lay dead. Douglas would be mad at first, but then he'd understand. Marcus had been tortured before, and he was sure he could survive it again – the payoff was worth any amount of electricity his father could pump through his veins, shock into his head. They could be a family again.

Marcus covered his mouth to hide his smile.

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**A/N: Leave a review. Make me smile. Have a lovely day! :)**


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